


The Arsonist and the Mayor

by SophiaCatherine



Series: ColdWave Week 2018 [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Politics, just in the background!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-13 16:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/pseuds/SophiaCatherine
Summary: “I know, already. You’re the law. You can’t be seen in public with an ex-criminal like me. I’m a liability to your image. Am I on the right track?”“I’m not the law. I’m the administration,” Leonard corrects. “And… it’s just not that simple, Mick.”





	The Arsonist and the Mayor

**Author's Note:**

> For day one of ColdWave Week. Prompt: _Opposites Attract_.

It’s late in the evening when Mayor Snart emerges, his briefcase under his arm as he comes through the door that separates his inner office from the outer one. At the desk, his secretary seems to be _under_ a pile of papers. “Good afternoon, Gary,” the mayor says as he passes the desk. “Hope you’ve had a good day.”

“Everything is entirely under control, Mr Snart,” Gary says in a tone that he probably thinks is reassuring, but isn’t. He dumps his pile of papers on the desk so that he can beam at his boss. “Would you like to hear tomorrow’s agenda before you go home, Mr Snart? I have it all here.” He starts rifling through yet more stacks of papers on his desk.

Leonard sighs. “Sure,” he says. He half-leans on the desk in a pose that manages to look both professional and casual. “Do tell all, Gary.”

“I will as soon as I can find - where is it - ah!” Gary drags a diary out from under the pile of papers.

Leonard arches an eyebrow. “Gary, have you thought of going paperless?” he asks, trying very hard not to sound as sardonic as he wants to.

“No, no. No need. I have everything under control,” Gary replies, in a tone just this side of panic. “Erm. So. After your 9 a.m. meeting with the Central City Environmental Committee - you _have_ prepared, haven’t you, Mr Snart? Because I’m sure you remember how Dr McGee felt about your response to her solar technologies proposal last week...”

“As I recall, she called me an undereducated clown,” the mayor says, nodding.

“And you’re due to drop in on the symposium on waste and recycling from 11 til 12.30.”

“Sounds fascinating,” Leonard replies through a yawn.

“And then you’re meeting with Police Commissioner Singh at 1pm, and I _know_ you remember that Mayor Queen is coming in from Star City at 3pm, and you’ve got the District Attorney at 5pm. And, of course, the Children’s Leukemia Trust charity ball is at 8pm. You won’t forget that, now, will you Mr Snart?”

Leonard’s eyes have been steadily rolling further and further into the back of his head throughout Gary’s infodump. “Gary, I’m thinking about retiring and opening a coffee shop,” he says as Gary finishes.

“I’m sure you don’t mean that, Mr Snart,” Gary says from under the table, where he’s ducked down to retrieve the diary he just dropped.

He sighs. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I won’t mean it at 9 a.m. tomorrow.”

Gary’s head pops out from under the table, and he regards the mayor from the floor. “Oh, by the way, Mr Snart,” he says. “Did you want me to tell the organisers the name of your plus-one for the ball?”

Leonard leans harder against the desk and avoids Gary’s eyes. “Oh, I think I’ll probably be attending alone, Gary,” he says, aiming for an uninterested tone. “As usual.”

Gary’s look is a little pitying for Leonard’s taste. “That’s a shame, Mr Snart. But then, I guess you’re just too busy to meet a nice lady, aren’t you?” He pauses, gets no response, and apparently decides to risk trying that again. “Or man, of course. Or any nice person, of any gender at all, really.”

They play this game rather a lot, and Leonard isn’t sure if he’s currently winning or losing. “Exactly,” he drawls in reply. “ _So_ busy.” Before Gary can emerge from under the desk, Leonard escapes through the door into the hallway. He leaves the door open so he can call behind him, “Thanks for everything, Gary. And do send my regards to your nice young man, won’t you?”

Gary, who has now managed to resume his seat, perks up. “Do you mean my chain-smoking, hard-drinking, rather _eccentric_ young man, Mr Snart?” he calls back.

“That’s the one,” Leonard shouts from the elevator, as the doors close.

* * *

A stream of blue moonlight dapples the blankets in Mayor Snart’s apartment bedroom, filtering in through the skylight above the bed.

Leonard is curled around a sleeping Mick, his head tucked against the back of Mick’s neck, feeling the quiet, familiar rise and fall of his chest. As he quietly begins to extract himself, there’s the too-late signal of sudden motion beneath him. “Mmph,” Mick grunts.

“Damn. Go back to sleep.”

A hand grabs his arm as he makes to leave. “Dun’ go.”

“Gotta use the facilities, Mick,” he laughs. “Two minutes. I’m not going anywhere.”

On Leonard’s return, Mick is sitting up in bed, playing with his lighter. Flickering orange and yellow. Flame on; flame off. “‘Facilities,’” he mocks. “You used to say ‘piss’ like normal folks. That mayor job has ruined you.”

Sliding back into bed, and wrapping himself around him again, Leonard says, “People change, Mick.”

“Right,” Mick mumbles, turning away. “You sure did.”

Leonard gives him a squeeze. “Come on, Mick. Let’s not have this argument again.”

“Fine.”

They lie in silence again for a few minutes, Leonard tracing patterns across Mick’s chest, Mick lying back and letting him. “Can you believe I have to go to a fucking charity ball tomorrow?” Leonard blurts out. He regrets it immediately.

Mick grins, though. “With tuxes and shit?”

“Uh-huh. And dinner, and some kind of jazz band, and I’m presenting an award to… I forget who. Some community stalwart.”

“Who do you even take with you to fancy shit like that?”

Leonard shrugs against Mick. “Was supposed to be a visiting dignitary from our twin city in Sweden. Did you know Central has a twin city in Sweden called Centrala Staden? Laughed so hard when I heard, I had to put down the phone and walk away from the conference call for a sec. But her trip has been cancelled.”

Mick takes a deep breath that Leonard can feel. “And none of your other guys or gals are good enough to be seen in public with you either, I take it?”

Leaning back and raising his eyebrows at him, Leonard says, “Exactly how many guys and gals do you think I have, Mick?”

He slides out of Leonard’s grasp, returning his focus to the click-clack, the sputtering little orange fire. “How many more do you need? You got me at your beck and booty-call anytime you want. I’m not good enough to be seen out with you, though.”

Leonard sighs, settling a hand lightly over Mick’s free hand, while his other continues to play with the lighter. “You know you’re more than that,” Leonard whispers. “But I can’t, Mick. I’m sorry.”

“I know, already." Mick glowers. "You’re the law. You can’t be seen in public with a criminal -"

" _Ex_ -criminal."

Mick rolls his eyes before continuing. " _Ex_ -criminal like me. I’m a liability to your image. Am I on the right track?” Flame on; flame off.

“I’m not the law. I’m the administration,” Leonard corrects. “And… it’s just not that simple. I’m newly elected, Mick. You know there’s already been talk about my shady past during the election. The public bought the ‘bad kid made good’ narrative, but they need to trust me before I can go surprising them with anything else. Mick, you _know_ this.”

Flame off.

Mick gets up and starts pulling his clothes on.

“Mick,” Leonard says, imploring. Mick carries on.

Then, dropping down to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, his bag pulled over his shoulder, Mick leans over and pecks him on the lips. “Leon, for a guy who’s gone up in the world because of his smarts, you got shit for brains. You don’t know you got a good thing till it’s gone.” With that, he gets up and leaves the room.

A moment later, Leonard hears the front door closing quietly.

Mayor Snart lies back and watches cold moonbeams illuminate an empty room.

* * *

It’s 7pm. All dressed up in his tux, Mayor Snart is still wrestling with paperwork.

Gary puts his head around the door. “Mr S-”

“ _What?_ ” The mayor spins in his seat and glares at him.

A look of panic crosses Gary’s face. “Nothing! Never mind!”

Leonard sighs and puts his pen down, rubbing his forehead. “Sorry, Gary,” he drawls, his Central City accent sneaking out at the end of a long day. “Didn’t mean to snap. What can I do for you?”

Gary's smile is nervous. “I just wanted to file the Queen meeting minutes.”

Leonard beckons him in. “Of course. Go ahead.”

Passing the mayor’s desk on the way to the filing cabinet, Gary says, “And if I may say so, Mr Mayor, that’s really a _very_ nice tux.”

Leonard stands and does an obliging little turn, and Gary beams.

“So,” Gary continues from the filing cabinet, “you’re really going alone, hmm?”

The mayor cocks his head at him. “It _appears_ so.”

With a sly smile, Gary says, “You know, you still have time to ask that nice young man of yours.”

Leonard has returned his attention to his paperwork, and doesn’t look up. “Do you mean my fire-obsessed, previously-employed-by-the-mob, ex- _arsonist_ ‘young man’, Gary?” he shoots back, doing the air quotes.

“That’s the one,” Gary says.

Leonard looks up just in time to see Gary wink at him. “He’s forty-seven,” Leonard shoots back, but he can’t repress the smile that wants to break out across his face. “Also, you do how know how that would go down in PR terms, yes?”

Gary continues to tidy files away. “Well. It seems to me that, until you’ve presented the situation to the public, you can’t really know how they’ll react. I mean -” He cuts off briefly as his head disappears completely into a filing cabinet. “Love,” he finishes as he pulls his head and a file out together, “is more important than a lot of things.”

“Poetic,” Leonard observes dryly. But he watches Gary thoughtfully.

Gary closes the cabinet with a terminal slam, then checks his watch. “ _And_ I’m off the clock. Unless you need anything else?” He pauses, then follows up with, “...Mr Snart?”

Leonard has spun back around to face the desk, leaning back to look at the ceiling. “Hmm? Oh, yes, of course, Gary. Have a great weekend. I’ll see you at temple tomorrow?”

“That you will,” Gary says, grabbing his hat from the hat-stand and tipping it to the mayor as he scampers out.

“Wish John a good weekend from me,” Leonard calls back after him.

“Double date!” Gary calls back.

The mayor shakes his head despairingly at him. “ _Good night,_ Gary." Gary disappears around a corner, grinning broadly.  

Leonard bites on a nail, staring into air for a few minutes.

Then he checks his watch, picks up the phone, and dials his driver.

* * *

Leonard is standing in a hallway with peeling wallpaper and graffiti, in front of an apartment front door, roses in one arm, spare tux over another. That’s when he realises how long it’s been since he was last here. He reaches up to the door knocker with a shaky hand, and finds it broken. He bangs on the door with a fist instead.

The door swings open and a grumpy face emerges - then softens - then hardens again. “Thought we did all our talking,” he says. Then he looks him up and down. “Nice tux.” 

Leonard holds out the roses. “For you,” he says through a mouth like sandpaper. He doesn’t remember it ever having been this difficult to talk to Mick before. It’s just Mick. “For you,” he says again.

Mick starts to laugh. “Fucking hell, Leon,” he says when he can get his breath. He nods at the suit carrier across Leonard’s arm. “I’m just gonna make this easier on ya. You want me to come to your fancy ball, right?”

Leonard nods. He looks down. “I’ve been an asshole, haven’t I?”

“You said it,” Mick says, grinning. Then his face falls. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna. You know - your campaign stuff, election stuff. It’s important shit, Leon.”

Leonard meets his eyes. “You’re more important. More important than… a lot of things.”

“Poetic,” Mick quips. He grabs the tux off him. “How long do we got till this thing kicks off?”

“Oh!” Leonard remembers with a start, and checks his watch. “One hour, fifty-two minutes.”

“I’m getting in the shower,” Mick says. He turns back into the apartment.

Then he turns back and grins. “You gonna stand out there in the hall all night?”

Leon smiles, and follows him in.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments very welcome. I always reply!
> 
> Thanks to [kleptoandpyro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Me/pseuds/kleptoandpyro) for lending me an insult that is both very Mick-like and non-ableist.
> 
> On tumblr [here](https://sophiainspace.tumblr.com/).


End file.
